Delirium
by BlueColoredDreams
Summary: While Ritsu can't bring himself to be honest, the least he could do is act normally around Takano. But he can't even do that, and while at his weakest, he knows he doesn't deserve the attention and love given to him.


**Delirium**

_I don't blame you  
>For questioning<br>Why people fall in love:  
>It's all the things you were taught to run from.<em>

One thing was certain—there was some sort of super-cold going around Marukawa. In all likely-hood, it had started with a _certain someone_, he thought with venom. In any case, it had made its rounds slowly, taking out key people at key times. Last week, it had gotten Kisa. This week, it was a handful of various people in the publishing department, and someone at the printer's, making the end of the cycle even more hellish. It had even slipped its tendrils out to the mangakas and their assistants.

Needless to say, everyone was very on edge. Dying of illness or not, there was going to be a magazine, and it was going to be quality—or so quoth Takano. There was no way—no way in _hell_!—Ritsu was going to invoke his already pissy boss's wrath. It. Was. Just. A. **_Cold_**.

He thought he'd dodged it anyway, after Takano had just gotten over it. A day of sneezing and a general ill-feeling, and then he was good to go, right? Right. He was definitely not sick right now. Definitely not. No way. Nope.

"Why am I here right now, why oh god, what am I doing?" he muttered under his breath, shakily forcing himself to cut out the type-setting without murdering himself.

"Onodera! Hate your life _later_!" Takano bellowed, "And answer the phone!"

Ritsu sighed and let the knife drop to his desk, head pounding. He hoped he hadn't left the phone ringing for too long—he'd taken it as the ringing in his ears getting stronger as his medicine wore off. He'd barely stammered out a greeting before the printers began their monthly tirade, this time even more irate than normal.

"Yes—we underst—no—but—Soon—" Ritsu turned his back to the rest of his colleagues, trying to ignore Takano's rather ridiculous and last-ditch effort suggestions for getting an extension. He really just wanted to go to sleep. Maybe he'd have enough strength when they finally finished to crawl to his sofa. It was too much to wish for his bed at this point. There was no way he'd have the stamina to clear all the laundry off of it, considering standing, holding the phone, talking, and breathing was too much of an issue for him at the moment. He had to sit down. "Look!" he finally snapped, the room spinning around him, "You'll get it when it's finished, same as always! Okay? Goodbye!" He let the phone drop to the receiver, the ringing in his ears even louder than the throb of his heartbeat in his head against the sudden quiet of the editing room. Even people who weren't in their section were staring in a mix of horror and admiration.

Ritsu sighed, dropping back down to his seat, rubbing his fingers against his temples. He had no idea where that came from; it was just the same sort of impatient anger that arose when he was dealing with an author who was being particularly stubborn, or that was generally reserved for Takano. He'd probably regret it later; no—there was no probably, he _would _regret it later.

"Well. That's one way to get us some time," Takano muttered as Kisa leaned forward into Hatori's general area whispering a "What's gotten into Ricchan?" behind a stack of papers.

"Let's get it done before they call back," Ritsu snapped peevishly, wondering if he was blushing under his paper face mask and scarf or if his temperature had come back up. He needed to find a moment to sneak away and down the next round of medicine he had stashed in his briefcase.

He could feel Takano give him a slightly reproachful look, thankful that they were all bundled up in a manner reminiscent of Mutou-sensei against the stupid cold. He would be the one dumb enough to catch it at the time he absolutely could not take off work on sick leave. He sighed, pulling his cardigan a little tighter around himself before setting back into the typesetting process, head swimming.

He had ten more pages left, then some last minute corrections on another manuscript, then he was done. He could be done; he could always send someone else running to the printer's. Or _could_ he? Who knew, but then he could be done if he really had to be—ten more pages, then he could—then he could…

He stared down at the page, which was swirling strangely against his desk. The drawings were sort of blurred, and… why on earth was there so much black tone…? That wasn't there earlier… He tried to draw in a deep breath to steady himself, and instead found himself struggling not to give into the urge to cough. If he started to cough now, he'd never stop, and at that point, he'd never be able to finish his work. He leaned over to grab a cough drop from his bag and found himself staring up at the ceiling. He blinked once, then twice…

"Oi!"

"Oh crap, he passed out—_again_! Ricchan—!"

Takano heaved himself up out of the wreck that currently was his desk, and picked his way through the disaster area to where Ritsu lay. He nudged the younger man with his shoe, and when that brought no response, knelt down. "Oi, this isn't the time for a nap," he snapped, prodding Ritsu's cheek irritably. He paused and laid his hand flat against the younger man's cheek, then sighed.

This idiot _would _come to work with a raging fever. Even _he _knew his limits and when to take a day off. "This one's out of commission," he announced. He stood and scooped Ritsu and his bags into his arms, "I'll be back in a minute; we'll sort it out somehow," he sighed wearily.

He carried Ritsu off into the break room, turning down the lights after laying the other down onto the sofa there. "Idiots _do_ get sick after all," he muttered under his breath, shrugging off his coat to cover the younger man up. He stood, patting his pockets for his wallet.

He'd heard Ritsu coughing from the hallway, but he'd figured that, as an adult, the man would be able to discern whether he was up to work or not. It wouldn't kill him to call in sick—sure, they'd all bitch about it, he conceded, feeding the tea machine his change. He'd probably bitch the most, just to rile his kouhai up a bit—but it wouldn't actually _kill _or seriously harm Ritsu to take a sick day. They'd managed the same amount of authors before Ritsu came along. They could do it again for a day or so at crunch time. That's what the part-timers were for. They could always 'borrow' one from _Japun_'s department or something. This probably hadn't even crossed Ritsu's mind, Takano mused, punching the button for hot tea irritably.

For such a pissy guy, Ritsu was almost incredibly altruistic. No, not even that: just plain stupid and self-conscious. Takano sighed and gave a half grin; it was as annoying as it was endearing, though. So he put up with it, even in times like this, where it did more harm to Ritsu than good.

He balanced the lukewarm cup on the floor next to the sofa, rustling about in the slighter's bag until he found what he suspected; a small bag full of a random assortment of pills, some the exact things Ritsu had given him weeks and weeks earlier.

He sort of felt guilty, though. He wasn't one to easily give into those sorts of feelings, because nothing really came from them, but at this point, he couldn't really help it. There wasn't any basis in it either, but seeing Ritsu look _that _pitiful, passed out on the couch like that because he was determined to do his job, well... There was nothing to be done but take care of the situation, he supposed. "Idiot," he chided, peeling off the other's face mask.

"Oi. Wake up," he urged, gently patting Ritsu's cheek. "Onodera. Wake up."

Someone was gently shaking him. Why?

"Hey, wake up, idiot—"

He was asleep…? That was Takano's voice, he knew. What had he been doing last? He felt like crap and—no, no, he hadn't gotten drunk, he was sick and…

"OH CRAP!" He bolted upright, only to smack foreheads with none other than Takano himself. His head throbbed in protest, the room spinning; weakly, he let himself fall back down, hand going to his forehead. "Ow," he groaned.

"Watch what you're doing!" Takano reprimanded, adjusting his glasses as he sat back on his heels. "And take it easy! You passed out cold just now. What the hell is wrong with you!" he demanded, ready to have a full on go at Ritsu.

Ritsu blinked and looked at his neighbor blearily. "I passed out?" he asked before turning his head to sneeze into his elbow. "And you didn't step on me?"

"You're an adult and—wait, _what_?"

"You didn't step on me?" Ritsu repeated flatly; "You step on me when I do that."

"No I don't, it's your fault for lying down where I'm walking… That aside," Takano continued, waving a hand tetchily, "What's your problem? Coming into work like this?"

Ritsu pursed his lips and looked away, knowing he was being scolded. Getting berated by Takano was the worst—he'd never admit it, _ever_, but he really did value what Takano, at least, thought of him. His opinions and advice were really valuable, and it wasn't just because he _lov_… well, Takano was someone who was successful, and Ritsu admired that. That was all, he told himself. The last thing he ever wanted to be was a burden, and when he had to be corrected or scolded, he really just felt like he was bringing everyone down. This time, he _knew_ he was.

He looked up at the dim ceiling for a moment to gather his willpower, then sat up. "It's the end of the cycle," he replied almost petulantly.

"And?" Takano countered, pushing Ritsu back down.

"I have… I have things I have to finish," Ritsu stammered, watching Takano's hand warily. "If I called in sick now, of all times…"

"What do you think would happen? We wouldn't be able to put out the magazine?" Takano retorted with a scoff, "We did this before without you, we could handle it." One look at Ritsu's face was enough to know that this wasn't as reassuring as Takano had wanted it to be.

"…Yeah, I… I forgot," Ritsu mumbled, closing his eyes. Of course they could. How stupid. "Of c…course you guys could have."

"Then why didn't you?" Takano asked, softer this time, "You're obviously sick."

Ritsu was quiet for a few moments, coughing before he answered. "…I didn't want… you to say I was… I didn't…"

"You didn't want me to what? Murder you or something? Drag you into work anyway?" Takano scoffed, "As if."

"Say that I was doing a half-assed job," the younger man finally admitted.

Takano froze, staring at the man. Sure, he said that quite a bit; he never really meant it past the first few times, once Ritsu had managed to stop sulking about becoming a manga editor under his ex-boyfriend's purview. He knew it had a rallying effect on the younger man: It was one of the most effective ways to get him out of a slump and doing everything he was capable of. Takano knew, more than anyone, that Ritsu never half-heartedly did anything, whether it was confessing, breaking up with him, or editing manga. However, Takano would be the first to point out that Ritsu was often determined enough to become absent-minded about other things; like, say, his health. "Idiot," he scolded softly, reaching up to ruffle the younger's hair. His fingers slid through the messy locks, then against Ritsu's fever-heated skin. "If you did a half-assed job here, for _real_, I wouldn't keep you around."

"What?"

"I wouldn't say it just for something like this. You're doing your best, and you're doing it well," Takano said softly, "I keep saying it: Have some confidence, and take care of yourself. Okay? Yeah? Sit up." He slid his arm around Ritsu's shoulders, slowly guiding the smaller man up.

"I can sit up on my own," Ritsu protested, shivering weakly as Takano's cool fingers brushed against the bare strip of skin on his neck. He fell silent, looking quickly away from the older man's stern gaze.

"Here, take your medicine," Takano instructed, standing back up. "What else do you have left to do?"

Ritsu cupped the pills Takano transferred to him in his hands with a reproachful look towards his boss, tossing them into his mouth. He wasn't too sure how to feel about the idea of Takano going through his bag, much less the thought of the elder seeing him this weak. He swallowed the medicine with a little difficulty, coughing into his cup. "Ah—don't worry, I'll get it done," he said, moving to stand only to find Takano's strong hand pushing him back into the sofa. "I'll be fine now, thank you—!"

"No, your job is to now lie down and go back to sleep," he said sternly. "Once I'm done, we'll go home. I brought my car today and I'll keep an eye on you overnight."

"You don't have to do that!" Ritsu protested, voice cracking against the words, "I'll be fine on my own!"

"It'd be a pain in the ass for me if you died or something," Takano said with a smug smirk. Ritsu flinched, his own words rendering any argument he had useless. "Now, what left did you have to do?"

"Ten pages and the last-minute dialogue changes for Saitou-sensei's piece," he said finally.

Takano smiled softly and ruffled Ritsu's hair again. "Alright, we'll cover it somehow. Now rest." He leaned forward and kissed Ritsu's forehead.

Ritsu closed his eyes tightly, Takano's lips cool and dry against his forehead. The contact was familiar and pleasant, almost soothing. He was sure he was blushing. He weakly turned his head away, "Oi—not—not _here_."

Takano chuckled as he stood, "Just checking your fever," he said mischievously, tapping his lips.

"I'm not some kid," snapped Ritsu, scowling in Takano's direction.

"You have to wonder sometimes," Takano laughed, "Since you can't even properly care for yourself."

"…Tch." There wasn't much more he could say against that; he had done a pretty bad job of taking care of himself as of late—when was the last time he'd sat down and had a decent meal? A good night's sleep? Or even a crappy night's sleep on his bed? With another huffy exhale, Ritsu rolled onto his side, back to the door and Takano. "It's not like I could have done anything more than I did."

Takano shrugged, knowing refuting Ritsu at this point was useless. There was work to be done, and as much as he _wanted _to sit and banter back and forth with the younger, he couldn't sit and flirt forever. He paused, though, at the door. "I'll come back when we're done," he said, "So go to sleep. I'll put up a sign on the door or something."

Ritsu shifted, knowing Takano was waiting for his answer; he could hear the soft rustle of his clothes as he looked back at him. He shivered and pulled the coat covering over him, closing his eyes tighter as he realized with no little embarrassment that it was Takano's. He knew what it smelt like, even without having to breathe in at all: He'd spent enough time in Takano's arms to know it smelt faintly of smoke and detergent, and knowing that was like having the man with him and …that thought made him even weaker than the illness itself. This was bad. Something so small was washing him away, filling him with the fruitless longing that Takano had always—_always—_inspired within him. He cleared his throat, the small action turning into a wracking cough.

"Oi! I told you earlier: go die on your own time, not mine," Takano said suddenly, "Drink the rest of the tea. And go to sleep!" he ordered.

"…Hey… Takano-san," Ritsu mumbled slowly, hunching his shoulders over, trying to bury himself into the old battered sofa. Everything ached. Everything spun. "…Thanks."

Takano blinked, staring over at his coworker and neighbor's curled up form, shivering softly under his jacket, just being all around pitiful and ill and incredibly, so incredibly, endearing. He stuck his hands into his pockets, smiling softly in the dim room. "Idiot," he said fondly, slipping from the room quietly, leaving Ritsu to sleep.

He strode away, tucking away the fond part of him. This was where it got hard—separating the worry he held for Ritsu at the moment from the need to get work done. He doubted anyone would be too happy with him if he absconded with Onodera now; Ritsu _especially_ would bitch him out if he took any more time away from the magazine at this point. He'd never hear the end of it from anyone.

"Okay," he announced, striding into the overwhelmingly pink and messy space that was the editing department for _Emerald_. "Onodera's basically dead right now. He had ten pages left to typeset and some last-minute changes to make before his stuff was done." The initial switch was hard, but this was where he was most at home—work. "We'll do what we did before in crisis-mode; everyone take two pages, and I'll pick up the extra. Has the printing department called back?"

"No," Hatori answered, looking up from his current fax, "Not yet."

Takano snorted, "Well he did _something_ right before he passed out," he answered, shuffling through Ritsu's desk.

**X**

_Somehow_. Somehow, by some miracle straight from the manga gods themselves, they were done without anymore disasters. If Ritsu wasn't as anal about organization and deadlines as he was, they might have been screwed. Or hell, if he hadn't have lost it at the printers, they'd be up the creek. But as it was, they were done. And the cycle was over. For now.

"Good work," Takano said, waving off the rest of the crew. There were some small things he'd have to gather up and take home, but they weren't life or death. They could be dealt with later. He stood and stretched, back cracking appreciatively; he gathered his things, eyes sweeping over Ritsu's desk for anything that the younger might need. There were one or two proposal forms that had been dropped off during the day, but Takano decided not to pick them up. If Ritsu had them, he probably wouldn't rest anymore, but rather work himself even sicker. He simply stacked them where Ritsu would find them and left, making his way to the break room.

He peeled off the sign on the door ("Caution: Idiot at Rest") and stepped in, finding Ritsu just as he'd left him hours before: asleep and sick. He knelt down, pressing his hand to the man's forehead, wrinkling his nose in distaste as he found it warmer than before. Was there not a fever reducer in the cocktail that Ritsu had brought with him? Or had it just worn out early?

"Onodera. Wake up."

Ritsu shifted slowly, easily brought out of sleep this time. While he was used to sleeping on the floor or sofa in his own apartment, there was something unsettling about trying to sleep at work, when every bit of him knew he should be working. So he'd simply dozed off and on, and woke feeling worse each time. Before, he felt like he'd been run over; now he felt simply dead. His mouth was dry, something was sitting on his chest, his head was going to explode, and on top of it all, he now had to deal with Takano taking care of him.

"C'mon. Sit up. It's time to go."

"I'll be fine here...Just let me be."

"Bullshit. Get up," Takano ordered. "Stop being childish."

Ritsu glared sleepily at Takano before slowly sitting up; "Um… here… your jacket—"

"Just put it on," Takano said with a shrug, "We're taking my car, so there won't be a lot of time for me to get cold. You look like you need it worse."

Ritsu felt his face grow even warmer, head feeling light. He swayed a bit, only to be steadied by Takano's firm grip. "I can—on my own—" he mumbled even though it was absolutely not true. This was so embarrassing. He slowly rose to his feet and pulled on Takano's jacket over his own, thankful for its warmth even though he'd really never admit it. Having the collar brush against his jaw, and the long sleeves pool at his wrists gave him the same sort of thrill as laying himself flat on his sempai's bed when he was a teenager. It also made him incredibly nervous. What if someone saw? What would they think? Would it be obvious that they were—that they—that he lo… or would it just look like a boss taking pity on their employee?

Takano slipped an arm around Ritsu to help him get steady, then paused, looking down at the flushed brunette. "You really are sick. You didn't even scream," he said in mock-surprise. Or perhaps it was real surprise—Ritsu couldn't tell and he particularly didn't care at the moment.

"Shut up," Ritsu muttered, turning his head away, "You piss me off, you know." Even though it was embarrassing, it was nice to know that if he stumbled or passed out again, Takano was there to make sure he didn't fall flat on his face. The elder man was prone to picking on him and teasing him, but Ritsu knew Takano wouldn't leave him out in the cold. He'd been supported and encouraged by the man too many times: After all, he hadn't forgotten the time he fell asleep on the train home. He knew, by now, that he was in pretty steep debt to Takano for all the times he'd been encouraged; and what had he done in return? Nothing, pretty much. Snarky remarks and half-assed clinging fingers. He couldn't even properly sort out his feelings to allay Takano's worries— for he knew that the elder had to be worried. He knew, all too well, what it was like to love someone, hold them, and sleep with them and still wonder 'Am I loved too?' at the end of the day. As much as Takano sounded confident, he had to be somewhat worried. Right? Ritsu looked at his feet, all too uncomfortably aware that he was pushed close to Takano's side, the elder's arm firm at his side.

"I'm aware," Takano chuckled. "C'mon."

They moved through the building, empty offices thrown into contrast by the sounds of distant chaos. They were on the elevator before Ritsu raised the question that had been nagging at him since Takano had forbid him from going back to work. "…is…did everything work out?"

Takano raised an eyebrow, peering petulantly at Ritsu over his glasses; "What do you think, idiot?"

Ritsu bristled, "Well excuse _you_!" he snapped back, though with less vigor than he normally would have. He was too tired to deal with that. He leaned back against the elevator's wall, Takano's hand pressed firm to the small of his back. It was a bit relieving, actually; the snarky remark meant that everything had gone alright, somehow. "I'm glad though."

"You owe us big time, you know," Takano said lightly, giving Ritsu a soft push as the elevator's doors slid open. "Me especially."

"I know, I know," Ritsu muttered, watching his feet shuffle across the linoleum as Takano guided him forward. How had he even made it to work like this? Or was it the steady pressure and warmth on his back that was making him so light-headed? It was true, Takano always made him feel ill, like he couldn't take a deep breath or walk straight… So which of the two was it winning over his senses: Takano or the cold? "Always it comes back to this."

"Sure as hell didn't do it for free," Takano yawned, pulling his keys from his pocket.

"Tch." Ritsu turned his head away, closing his eyes as he sighed. Payback for Takano probably meant grueling tasks and running across departments on goose-chases… or even… he flushed, shaking his head, willing himself not to think of _that_. Thinking of it made it seem like he expected it, or _wanted _it even—there was no way that he… No. Of course not!

"Problem?"

"Yeah, you," Ritsu grumbled, squirming as the elder snorted and reached up to muss his hair. "Geesh, you always do that-!"

"Do I?" Takano asked absently, hitting the button to unlock his car as they strode up to it under the dim orange lights of the car deck at night.

"Even back in high…school…Eh—um…" Now Ritsu was sure he was bright red. He hadn't even thought about it: It had just come out. It wasn't even really a taboo subject, since Takano brought it up every time he complained about how completely tetchy he'd become. But he… he never really… it was embarrassing, that's what it was! He didn't want Takano getting any weird ideas that he remembered more than he did, although he was starting to recall some things now. But Takano was sure to say something horribly embarrassing about it if Ritsu was to tell him that he was remembering the smaller quirks in Takano's behaviors or their conversations that had fallen to the back of his memories over ten years.

"Hmph," Takano murmured noncommittally, tossing his and Ritsu's bags into the back seat. "Habit, then. Do you not like it?"

"No—it—no I—that—!"

"So _do _you like it?" Takano prompted, smirking over at Ritsu.

"That's _not_ what I said!" Ritsu protested loudly, rubbing his temples in frustration.

"You clearly answered no," Takano replied with a shrug. He slid into the car, watching Ritsu settle himself before leaning over to give the other a soft kiss on the cheek. The heat against his lips was worrisome, but the reaction was more than he could have hoped for. Instead of protesting, Ritsu just stared at him, obviously ready to sulk the drive away.

"Just drive," he grumbled.

Takano snorted, and turned the car on, filling it with the soft chatter of late-night radio. Ritsu shifted slightly in his seat, looking out of the window with his arms crossed over his chest. It wasn't long before he felt himself dozing off again; he wasn't a very good passenger, now that he thought about it. He was either quiet and moody, or out all together. He looked over sleepily, noticing Takano drumming his fingers against the center console as he waited to pull out into traffic. Maybe it was the fever making him willful, but he reached out with the sudden urge to touch the elder man. Normally, he hesitated just long enough to quash the desire all together, but even as he thought 'no', he felt himself move. He slipped his fingers shyly around Takano's hand, turning his head away and closing his eyes tightly. He hoped that this, possibly, could be enough somehow. Maybe that was why he'd done it, even though it embarrassed him deeply, just to give Takano a small reassurance that Ritsu didn't outright _hate _him.

He fell asleep contemplating this, thoughts filled with guilt and the soft feeling of a hand in his.

**X**

He was woken with a kiss. The orthodox response to this would probably be to kiss back—the Ritsu response to this, however, was to shout loudly and flail. "_You_—!"

Takano stepped back from where he was leaning into the passenger's side door, smirking. "That certainly woke you up," he said with amusement. "Cute."

"I—**_you_**—!" Ritsu reached out and weakly pushed the elder, only to be caught in Takano's grip.

"Stop flirting when all you need to do is rest," Takano murmured as he pulled Ritsu up out of the car and into his arms.

"Who says _I'm_ flirting?" Ritsu spluttered, the familiar rush of being pressed to the elder sweeping almost all coherent thought from him. It wouldn't be so hard to give in, to slip his arms around Takano and… He trembled and closed his eyes, gently worming himself away, stumbling over his own feet in his sleepy haste.

"Careful," Takano warned, holding Ritsu around the waist even tighter. "Though, fair point. What you're doing isn't really flirting. You're failing too hard."

"You-! In _whose_ universe am _I_ flirting! Get a **grip**!"

"I have one," Takano said dryly, giving the slighter man a soft squeeze. It was so easy to tease Ritsu; he got entirely too flustered entirely too easily. It was just as cute as it was hilarious to watch. "How else do you think you're standing?"

Ritsu gaped up at Takano, torn between wanting to yell at the elder man and the lingering tenderness that urged him to take the elder's hand in the car. "You shouldn't get so close to me," he grumbled, settling for a compromise between the two; "This cold sucks, don't catch it again."

Takano was slightly bewildered at how nice Ritsu was being; he was used to having to fight for the smallest admittance of affection from the elder. He said nothing for a moment, feeling Ritsu shiver against him, watching as the smaller's face contorted into the familiar look of longing that Takano would never tell Ritsu he knew about. He'd first seen it ten years ago, when Ritsu was much more open about everything. It was something he knew Ritsu was self-conscious of now, since it had given him away to his fiancée, and Takano didn't have the heart to warn the younger that he was making it more often now that he was aware of it. He leaned forward and closed the passenger door, tucking Ritsu securely into his side. "You can't catch the same cold twice."

"Somehow, I doubt that this is the same thing by now," Ritsu protested weakly, frantically searching for some out.

"Oh, shut up," Takano complained, not unkindly. He led them off to the elevator, choosing to give the poor guy a break for once.

"You don't have to do this much," Ritsu muttered, finally broaching what was bothering him. "You don't have to do anything more than make sure I get into my apartment without dying."

Takano looked down at Ritsu with a frown. "I want to," he said simply.

"Well, you shouldn't," Ritsu snapped, glaring down at his shoes. Takano made his world spin— there was normal determination and…then there was Takano. Ritsu knew that any normal and sane person would have given up on him by now. Because it didn't actually _matter_ if he loved the elder or not, he could never admit it when it counted—he was just too half-hearted.

He knew it would be for the best if he could work up enough courage to actually say something, for real—he'd come so close, but the courage to say it just that once had completely drained him, and in a way, had wiped all of his self-confidence. What if the rain had been the world telling him that there was no way that this could work? What happened when he _did_ tell Takano? In any case, he owed it to the man. It was one of those cases where he knew Takano deserved better than someone like him, but he was incredibly relieved when Takano had told An that he'd been prepared for his lack of resolve. But it made him feel incredibly guilty. There was no way, as he was now, that he could ever hope to return even the smallest bit of Takano's affection—even if the elder's way of showing it was a bit warped at times. It had to be so frustrating. He knew it was. He knew it so well. But at the end of the day, he never thought about anything other than himself, his own pride, and how _he_ hurt. He was so grateful for Takano's determination. It made him feel that there might be something within him that was worth looking at. Perhaps that was why he lo…loved Takano the way he did.

Takano could build things from mere wreckage: The magazine, unsalvageable manuscripts, author's spirits, even Ritsu's own self-confidence. And for that, Ritsu loved and hated Takano more than anything. And he... well, Ritsu couldn't do anything but trip over his own feelings.

"And why is that?" Takano asked lightly, struggling to keep his voice even. It angered him sometimes, how much Ritsu pushed him away; it was hard to remember how open with everything he used to be. But Ritsu was still the same, he knew. He wanted to know, really, why the man was so cynical now; was he really so afraid of being hurt? Over a misunderstanding? He gently nudged Ritsu forward into the elevator, watching the younger out of the corner of his eye.

"…All I did when you were sick was shove a bag full of crap at you and said I hated you," Ritsu muttered peevishly.

"Is that what's bothering you?" Takano asked in surprise. "Look, you say you hate me all the time," he said with a shrug, pressing their floor's button. "You get used to it."

"…don't hate you."

"Excuse me?"

Ritsu looked up, scowling angrily, cheeks dark red, "I said I don't hate you!"

"I _know_ that," Takano replied, ruffling Ritsu's hair fondly. "We've talked about this already."

"…how do you know?" Ritsu said softly, "You don't need to do anything for me, especially when I can't do anything back."

"Wait, what?"

"The least I could do is—is just sit and talk to you normally, but I can't even do that," Ritsu burst out suddenly, looking up at Takano with an odd look in his eye. Takano had seen it only once or twice, the dazed yet determined look that Ritsu wore that first time he'd confessed, and then again when he'd looked up at him, umbrella in hand as rain poured outside. "I can't—even do that," he said again, looking away. "Because I can't think straight around you."

"Is that a confession?" Takano said, looking down at Ritsu, gently taking the younger's chin between his fingers.

"Not particularly."

"Well it sounded familiarly like one I got back in high school," the elder murmured, leaning closer before Ritsu reached out and pushed his hands against Takano's chest.

"No," he said softly, "It wasn't. It's not the same. _I'm_ not the same. So it can't be the same."

Takano withdrew, settling for taking Ritsu's hand in his own as the elevator's doors slid open. He held tightly to the younger man, not wanting to allow him any escape. As if he could let go after hearing those same words. That was as close to an 'I love you' he knew he would ever get from Ritsu for now, even though the brunet so vehemently denied it. It pained him that it only came when the man was half-delirious with fever and sleep, but what he got, he got. And he would take it without guilt.

Ritsu stumbled along behind Takano, barely protesting when he was led into the elder's apartment. He shivered as the elder let him go, the door softly clicking shut behind him.

"How is it not the same?" Takano asked softly, the gentleness in his voice making Ritsu tremble even more. He reached out and slid his hands softly against the younger's warm cheeks before slowly beginning to peel off the layers of Ritsu's clothes.

"We can't," Ritsu said simply, turning his head away. He felt strangely light without the weight of Takano's coat on his shoulders, with the words tumbling out of his mouth unburdening his heart. "We can't."

"I'm not trying," Takano said, raising an eyebrow, "Not when you're sick like you are."

Ritsu flushed so hard that his ears turned red; "Not like _that_, stupid!" he protested, "I meant… it's not the same… because we really shouldn't be—we… I can't. Sorry. I can't… continue… like this."

"What do you mean?"

Ritsu grimaced hearing the subtle accusation in Takano's voice. It seemed he really was just stringing the elder along. He looked up at the man, who was as close to upset as he had seen him. "I… I can't," he said again. As much as he knew that there was no way they could be anything, not in the adult world— not without consequence—he really didn't want to lose Takano. To lose this now… he would likely never recover. And Takano…As it was, Ritsu could barely bear the notions that Yokozawa had set within him, the small seed of guilt that was planted that day. To force himself to break Takano's heart _knowing _what it would do was too cruel. But Takano needed to understand… needed to know that it was all too painfully fruitless for them…and if he was still determined even after that—? Everything ached, head spinning as he tried to keep up with the emotions breaking free from the walls he'd put up all those years ago and so carefully tended to until he began working alongside one Takano Masamune.

Ritsu stepped forward, laying his head against the elder's chest as he slowly reached up to curl his fingers into the material of Takano's sweater. He couldn't hurt this man. He couldn't. "You know why—why I came to Marukawa. That… that still stands," he said softly, pleadingly; "I want to—I want to prove that I'm worth more than my name. Even if I—although I like being a manga editor, I still want… I want to take over my father's company, I want… I want to continue editing, and be _worth_ something as _me_—If we—I don't… I don't want to throw all that work away. I can't allow that. You keep telling me to take pride in my work—and I want to, I'm starting to… I can't throw it away."

Takano slipped his arms around Ritsu, leaning forward to kiss the slighter softly; "And how would admitting you love me throw that away? I know you value your work. You do it well."

Ritsu laughed shakily, "You—you really know how to encourage me, Takano-san," he said quietly, looking away bitterly.

"If I couldn't support the one I love, what else would I be good for?"

"…I can't support you one bit," Ritsu whispered guiltily, frowning deeply; "If we… what if someone said that I slept my way to favoritism? Or they kicked us both out—"

Takano stiffened in shock, staring down at Ritsu with an unreadable expression on his face, but his eyes were slightly pleading. "I wouldn't let them do that—Isaka-san wouldn't do that. Everyone in the department sees how hard you work, regardless of who you love. And it doesn't matter what you can and can't do."

"…Even back then, I couldn't… I was a stupid kid," Ritsu said tiredly, ignoring Takano's words. He swayed on his feet, incredibly exhausted and pained. He closed his eyes tightly, feeling the world shift sickeningly beneath his feet. He leaned heavily into Takano's solid form. It was so comforting to have someone to be there for him; he wanted to keep it forever. But he was scared. What if he depended too much on Takano? What if Takano was playing games with him again? Or what if it was all a dream thought up by his sleepy fifteen-year-old mind? "I was terrified, always," he said, words coming quickly now, afraid he would wake up and Takano would be gone. "Maybe, if I was a little more confident, we could have—We could have had more time—I can't stop thinking that if we'd had more _time_…"

Takano listened to Ritsu's voice trail off against his shoulder, feeling uncharacteristically weak. Hearing Ritsu speak so wistfully and so realistically about their relationship made him feel like trapping the younger against his body, holding him so he could never escape ever again. "We wouldn't be here now, if it had been like that," he said softly. "Thinking like that gets no one anywhere. Trust me."

"You'd be happier," Ritsu said with certainty. "I'd only ever thought about myself up until I came to Marukawa. I never thought that… I could have hurt you. I only thought about how_ I_ was hurt, even though I knew… I knew you had things that hurt you too."

"Ritsu, stop," Takano said firmly. He set his hands on the younger's shoulders, gently pushing him far enough away to look him in the eye. "You're delirious. You're sick. Just rest."

"Even so—" The brunette whispered, closing his eyes, "I could never imagine that Senpai loved me, I mean, I—I was annoying, gross…I…always, always…was thinking that," he said regretfully. "So I got hurt too easily. I made my own fears come true. I know it's stupid. You don't have to say it."

Takano stood silently, drawing Ritsu against him. He'd always wondered. He knew, with no small amount of guilt, that it had always been something to do with that day. But he'd brushed it aside, because Ritsu came back to him that day. But that was why there had always been two umbrellas afterwards, very shy whispers of 'Are you sure?', and stammering apologies. Ritsu had never been sure of himself to begin with; he'd never been earnest and straight-forward. He'd always been building the walls, brick by brick. He just wasn't good at it yet ten years ago.

From the moment he'd met Ritsu, back before he was "Onodera" in his mind, before he was so achingly in love with the younger, Ritsu had never…Takano never noticed. He'd thought it was just innocence and naivety, but that was only half of it, wasn't it? The pained looks weren't just endless longing, Ritsu really had been worried. The real reason he couldn't bring himself to look up… Ah. It… made sense. Why an ill-timed laugh caused the reaction it did. He just wished that Ritsu wasn't as dramatic as he was… but then again. "Ritsu," he mumbled, kissing the top of his neighbor's head. "…It's not… stupid."

"…Takano-san," Ritsu said suddenly, "I think I'm going to pass out."

"Oi!" Takano grabbed Ritsu as the younger suddenly swayed and crumpled against him, keeping him from simply falling over. He gave a soft sigh, bending forward to pull Ritsu into his arms. He didn't know what he needed to feel now; it had been so straightforward, even back then.

But he'd been a stupid kid as well, hadn't he? He knew he'd handled things badly, he'd told Ritsu that much already. But he never thought that Ritsu could have—and was— hurt… well, he'd considered it, but he'd brushed it aside. Because at that point, he still thought of Ritsu as that spoiled kid from the loving family who stood in the fast food line in sheer awe with him. There was no way someone that pampered and loved could really _hurt_. Not like he did.

That was what he thought. He sighed again, kicking his shoes off before carting Ritsu to bed. He sank into the mattress next to his unconscious employee, regarding the slight man warily.

There was always more about Ritsu to know past the trivial things like shoe sizes and birthdays, things that he slowly uncovered as they lived and worked alongside each other. Things that made Ritsu even more dear to him, that made him even more hell-bent on loving the man. He found that he could wait even longer on Ritsu, if that were even possible.

He reached out and smoothed Ritsu's bangs away from his fevered skin, giving the smallest of smiles as the smaller turned his cheek into the touch, mumbling a soft word that sounded much like the Ritsu of ten years previous—only this time, it was his name that was whispered.

**X**

"You're telling me that you don't remember how you got here," Takano remarked dryly, surveying Ritsu over the rim of his coffee cup. "…You're a horrible person. Truly."

"So you say," Ritsu replied evenly, looking highly agitated. "You didn't—uh..."

"Try anything? That was all you," Takano remarked with a smirk. "I had to fend you off for my own virtue."

"_What_?" Ritsu screeched, loud enough to not only make Takano wince, but probably wake the entire floor in the process. "Like hell I would do anything like that, asshole! And who says you have any virtue in you left? You probably tried to sexually harass me after I passed out!"

"God, shut up," Takano groaned, "You were so pleasant last night too! You're such a pissy guy for someone who was so cute in high school."

"Excuse _you_!" Ritsu straightened his back, face set into a firm scowl, "I'll have you know that it's _entirely_ **your** fault too! Because you deserve to get bitched at!"

Takano waved a hand dismissively, taking a sip of his coffee. He paused, watching Ritsu's cheeks slowly fade from the embarrassed splotches that has risen violently as he yelled. "You know," he said slowly, "I wouldn't exactly be happier if that hadn't happened back then."

"…What?" Ritsu asked sharply, flinching almost as if he'd been hit.

Takano sighed and stared up at Ritsu, "It's nothing. Just sit and eat something so you don't get sick again."

Ritsu felt himself flush at the intensity of Takano's gaze, looking away from the man. Reluctantly, he sat himself down before the elder man, taking the second cup that he knew had been laid out especially for him with shaking fingers. "I… I guess I'll grace you with my presence," he muttered with his best attempt at haughtiness.

Takano snorted, pouring coffee into Ritsu's waiting cup. "So you're still delirious, huh?" he teased. "I wonder what cute things you'll say today, then."

Ritsu flushed angrily, and wondered why he was so infuriatingly in love with such an ass sometimes. Not that he would ever admit it.

Probably.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _Ahhh, such a cliche plot. ;;^;; It's probably been done a million times. But I wanted to write it no matter what once it entered my mind to write it! And I really wanted to sit and explore Ritsu's complexes about Takano and himself and work. He has some pretty valid worries that I think get brushed off as somewhat trivial by Takano because Ritsu's pretty bad at expressing himself.  
>I get like that sometimes.<br>Hm, well, in any case, the lyrics at the top are from "Hourglass" by This Day&Age. I really recommend it! _


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